


Bad Rock

by durinsreign



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Erebor Never Fell, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities, Lies, M/M, Multi, Unrequited Love, fake identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22601566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/durinsreign/pseuds/durinsreign
Summary: In which Dwalin gets saved from falling to his death.Perhaps he hadn't been real at all, instead being a part of Dwalin’s imagination, a ghost that carried him out from a dire situation. A guardian?
Relationships: Dwalin/Nori (Tolkien)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thank you to Jenny (@/leggyandkili on twitter), Tori (@/gamgeez on twitter), Alex (@/thebookofmerlyn on twitter), and Ritz

He didn't know who he was then. Didn't realize his reputation, didn't know his name or his shady profession. Didn't even know why he was there, watching like a spy, quiet as silence itself. But maybe that was best.

The rock in the dark side of the mountain wasn't strong, it was crumbly and misleading. If you stepped once, twice, perhaps it would hold. One foot, not two. No weight either, it would perish from beneath you and you will fall and die and no one would be able to save you, or get you, or honor you. But face it, if you were here, in this place, did you really have any honor to begin with?  
In this side of the mountain, if you left your fate in the cold, stone hands of the bad rock, you deserved that kind of death. ‘Recklessness will cost you your life.’ they said. And most listened. But Dwalin had trusted his own judgement and calculations. Even left to his own devices, he’d gotten this far, hadn't he?

So you understand his confliction when he took a step too close to somewhere weak and a hiss like a ghost wrapped around his head and through his ears to pull him back. It was sharp, hushed like a violently rushed whisper, but it was enough to tug him away from the deceiving flooring. 

He stood in silence for a good minute or two. Dwalin, a big, burly guardsman, a known noble among those in Erebor, wandering the shady, dishonest halls was surprising and suspicious. Why would someone come here of all places? The rock was weak and to cross it you needed to be quick and light on your feet. The guardsman’s steps were heavy and slow, each one more like a stomp than anything the other had seen.

“I wouldn't.” the voice said, still using an inside volume. Dwalin strained his ears to hear it. “Not strong enough. Y’stone sense okay?” 

Dwalin furrowed his brows. “Where do you suppose I go, if not there?” His stone sense was not the best, he’d just not paid much mind to the whole… bad rock, good rock thing.

“Back to your good rock.” the warrior stepped closer, back toward the shadows of where the voice became louder. “If you go this way you'll die. Fall and die. Y’too heavy for it. Can't even hold me.” it was further.

Dwalin stood unmoving, “crossed here before. I don't need you tellin’ me what's safe an’ not.” He folded his arms, scarred forearms and knuckle dusters on display despite no one being able to see them in the darkness. There was a sound like a huff and then a rustling, and Dwalin nearly made to follow the noise. Another sharp hiss stopped him.

“What are you trying to get, anyway? Who? Why?”  


It had been the disappearance of a merchant’s young lad. The dwarrow had been declared missing for about three days before someone suggested checking the bad rock. None wanted to come, sensitive stone sense or no, they wouldn't risk walking and falling to their demise. Dwalin, being captain of the guard and honestly fed up with the cowardly fear strewn across their faces, took it upon himself.

It was then that he grew frustrated, nostrils flaring with the beginning of a growl caught on his lips. There wasn’t a reason to tell him his business here, the olive green Guard’s cloak should have been enough. It was dark, but not pitch black in the mountain. A torch was lit every few thousand feet, and Dwalin could see the light bleeding from the one up ahead of him. The voice, when it returned, seemed further away than it had ever been since it came. If he wanted to close this case he needed to get to the other side, against this random dwarf’s advice or not.  
He ignored the questions. 

Back to his own judgement, then, Dwalin made for the end of the hall. One step at a time, the ground rumbled slightly like the support gave way right there. The first time his boot made contact with the shaky stone, Dwalin paused before he went again. 

And then he fell.

It was first, the slide of his heel. The rock giving out under him to drop into further darkness and never resurface again. Bits and pieces, along the rest of the walkway cracked down the middle and veined out to break itself to smaller pieces. He hadn't even made it three steps. There was a flash of emotion; fear that had been momentarily delayed by confusion and disbelief. The dwarf had been right. He was going to die and it would be in a shady part of the mountain, in a hole, where no honorable dwarf should be. No one would climb down to retrieve him. Dwalin’s mouth opened to scream.

A strong grip caught his forearm, but the arm itself being as thick as it was, slipped to his wrist. The guardsman’s own hand wrapped itself along his savior's for dear life. Dwalin looked down and suddenly his head started to spin as he watched the loose pebbles of the rock wall tumble into an abyss of nothing. The thud of the fallen walkway was so distant, if he spoke he’d have missed it entirely. He would have died. 

“Told you.” the voice was close, so, so close. It belonged to the one that had caught him. There was the hint of a smile in it, but it was clearly strained. Perhaps from the weight of Dwalin.  
He bit back a rude comment, the words heavy in his throat and hanging on his tongue instead when the guardsman flung his shoulder so his other hand caught the edge. He pulled himself up with the help of the mystery stranger easily. Dwalin’s chest heaved from the adrenaline that had shot through him, occupied arm still clutching the stranger’s forearm so tight that he let out the start of a whimper. His eyes searched the dark for the figure, letting go of him. He was small. Or at least his shadow was. Then, Dwalin started to wonder the exact reason this dwarf had watched him, saved him. Not that he would be able to make much sense of it. 

It didn't matter right now, though. He could ask questions later, for now, Dwalin let his breath catch up with his thoughts and a gasp of something fast, because his lips were moving before he knew what to say, came out along the lines of “you saved me.” And “I owe you.” The stranger made a noise to decline. The silhouette twitched and looked uncomfortable.

“No, you don't. ‘Just seen too many fall that way, ‘didn't want another.” Not in front of him. Never anyone if the world worked his way. Not unless they deserved it. Really deserved it.  
“You saved my life and I owe you.” Dwalin persisted, making no move to push the dwarf on physically. The insistence in his voice should have been enough. 

They went back and forth for a few minutes, near yelling by the end of it, but the stranger finally relented and agreed. 

“Dwalin,” he said after slouching against a wall.

“Íri.” The dwarf breathed, lying through his teeth. Even his smile had a certain sharpness to it.  
—

In the coming days, Dwalin did not go back to that side of the mountain. Instead, he kept an eye out for a dwarf he’d not even properly met. A small flame burned inside him, the hope to somehow find Íri again to repay him or one day promise to do the same. He didn't even know what the dwarf looked like. The only thing to go off of was the brush of his fingers on Dwalin's arm, the cocky tone of his voice, and the slightest glint of a wolfish smile in distant light.

He found himself a little restless. His head ran back and forth to and from an idea that maybe Íri himself had been a victim to the bad rock. The dwarf seemed so sure at the time, his stone sense was strong and good, but maybe it was just a lucky guess. But what would Íri be doing in the bad rock if he were an honest dwarf? What was Dwalin even doing in the bad rock? 

The case had closed itself, false information went a long way and it would have been a waste of time and a life to cross the rock. Instead, the lad was found in the woods off to the east of the mountain. He claimed to be having a very competitive game of hide and seek, yet there were no other children around to play. Miscommunication, Dwalin and the others thought. But he managed a thorough report, the lad being returned to his father not long after.

If he thought about it enough, Dwalin could remember not even seeing Íri leave. It was more like a blink and he was gone. A wisp of smoke, something weak from the puff of a pipe that could be wisped away at the wave of a hand. Or perhaps Íri hadn't been real at all, instead being a part of Dwalin’s imagination, a ghost that carried him out from a dire situation. A guardian? 

Dwalin shook his head. It was foolish thinking and Íri was real.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felt honest for one (1) second

Nori knew exactly who he dragged up from the broken ledge, but it was one thing to hear about someone and another to actually meet them. The guardsman was somewhat known among the thief’s circles, big, scary Azanulbizar veteran with warrior’s ink and knuckle dusters (that would only add to an already bruising punch if he'd thrown one), and his weapons of choice, twin axes with names that many around him feared. Who names their axes?

When Dwalin fell, Nori leapt to catch him before he had a chance to think about it, cursed his (beautiful) thick, scarred forearms, and heaved him up with all the strength he could muster. Then Dwalin hadn't let go immediately, he held on still like he was scared and like Nori was something comforting for a second. Just one second, like Nori was something good. 

But after their brief meeting, Nori didn't really spare a second thought for the guard. All that bickering of ‘I owe you’ and ‘no you don't’ made him roll his eyes until he was sure they’d stick there. There was nothing a dwarf like that could do for him. When Dwalin had turned away, to the hole he’d made, Nori slipped back into his little hideaway. It was just a carved space up in the rock, higher than another dwarf or any guard would look, and not the safest, but it was home when he needed it to be. 

Nori had laughed to himself after Dwalin stumbled up and left. Fooling the guardsman wasn't as hard as he’d thought. Their meeting was nothing like anyone else's encounter with him. In that moment, he wasn't a thief or liar, he was just Nori and he’d saved Dwalin from certain death. Until he decided to say he was Íri and maybe he wasn't as honest and good as he hoped to be.

It's nearly a month before Dwalin decided his best chance at finding the mystery dwarf again was in the depths of the bad rock. It wasn't an active search, more if he was headed somewhere, he glanced around in hopes for an earful of snark. He felt silly to be pursuing someone that might not even want to be found, still, a part of him had urged him out of bed to make sure Íri was alive. 

The further down Dwalin went, the darker and colder the walls around him became, and he found himself tugging his furs closer to himself. It wasn't the same path as his last date with danger, but it still wasn't completely safe. His surroundings grew unfamiliar with every turn and he wasn't exactly sure where he was headed, but who’d ever heard of a dwarf that was lost underground?

That feeling of being watched, tiny pin pricks along his skin and down his spine had started and there was the sound of a pebble dropping. Then another, and another, later the surprising kiss of one to the side of his face. Dwalin’s brows furrowed, the edge of a growl turning his lips as he whipped his head around to see a figure in the dark behind him. 

“Didn't your amad ever warn you about the shadows?” The familiar voice spoke with a bitter bite, a glint of something silver dancing across what he sought to be the dwarf’s hand. 

“Íri,” Dwalin nearly gasped. The tension in the guard’s shoulders slowly ceased, but he kept an unrevealed grip on one of his axes. Íri cocked his head, the same wolfish smile spread on his face as the flashes of silver disappeared into his sleeve. Dwalin’s expression softened. He’d been so worried for his own sanity that Íri didn't exist that he didn't actually know what to say or do when he found him.

“Don't wear it out.” The dwarf stepped closer, nose first coming into the dim light around them. The torch on the wall was half flickering, growing weaker by the second, but it was enough to make out his features and simple braids. Íri had a handsome nose (Dwalin would have said something had they been in better lighting), and a narrow face, yet it was still too dark to be able to determine the color of his hair. It all looked near brown but lighter. 

“You live here? Around here?” Dwalin made a vague gesture with his hand.

“Sometimes,” Íri shrugged. “Who's asking?” he squinted his eyes, searching the guard’s face for any change in expression or even a flicker of emotion in his eyes. Not that anyone could really see here anyway. 

“Someone after you?” It was the only reason Dwalin could think of that would prompt a dwarf to hide away in the unsteady rock. Íri tensed, only for a second. 

“Just you. Are you interrogating me?” the corner of his lip tweaked up to a lopsided grin as he made a move to get closer, sizing Dwalin up. 

“No.” Was all Dwalin said, arms crossing over his (strong and broad, now that Nori was looking) chest. 

“Were you looking for me?” 

Dwalin didn't answer, but the shift in his demeanor and start of a growl under his breath told Nori that he was right.

Nori chuckled, “big, brave guardsman walking through these halls for me?” He feigned affection, for a moment, hand pressed to his chest with a starry-eyed smile. Dwalin snorted, eyes rolling half amused. 

“Aye, did’n want anyone else fallin’.” 

“Don’ have to worry about me. ‘Know you said all that about ‘owing’ me, but I don't need it.” the thief shrugged and averted his gaze. There was no where else to look except for bare walls of rock or the distant gleam of another torch, but it was better than staring back into the guard’s intense gaze. Dwalin didn't speak for a while and the silence was deafening. Nori’s hands kept busy, loosely flipping a short blade in his hand as Dwalin watched half fascinated and half on alert. He’d started to wonder if what he said was wrong, but…

“Do you… there's a tavern—”

“Yes.”


End file.
